


The ReVamp

by Florence_in_Silver



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Gen, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-09-27 03:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20400811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florence_in_Silver/pseuds/Florence_in_Silver
Summary: After Giles is killed by the Twilight, Buffy is granted one wish. She wishes for a do-over, a second chance to save her loved ones. When she wakes up, though, she finds herself in a new town, a new era, and none of her friends seem to remember who she is.Inspired by the 2019 Buffy comics, though it doesn't take place in the same universe as those.





	1. The Benevolence of Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm setting the start of this story during the season 8 Buffy comics, which I actually haven't read. So there are probably some inaccuracies.   
Comments are welcome!

Buffy didn’t think she could do this for much longer. There was a reason that most slayers never made it into their late 20s, which she had always thought was due to the sheer peril of their duty. But she was beginning to think that maybe Spike had been right, and that in the end all slayers wished for death.

She felt the dampness of the dewy grass begin to bleed through her shirt, chilling her shoulders and back, but she didn’t want to stand up yet. For now, all she could manage was to lay there, underneath the great boughs of an old yew tree, and watch the stars pass her by. It was cold, colder than she was used to, but northern California tended to be cold and wet and miserable. Then again, everything was miserable right now, and it wasn’t looking to get better. She breathed in. She breathed out. Still, she lived.

It was always unsettling when people died around her, though in the past she would mask the discomfort of it with a joke or a determined resolve to stop the evil that had caused the deaths. And when it was just strangers who were dying, it was easier to make the jokes, to say the badass comebacks, and to fall asleep at night. Dr. Gregory had really been the first death to truly hurt. Buffy didn’t know him well, having only been in his sophomore biology class for a few weeks when he was killed, but he had done something that the teachers of Sunnydale High had rarely done. He had believed in Buffy. And years later that still meant something to her.

Jenny Calendar had been the next to die, and that had brought a whole new kingdom of pain to Buffy’s world. She had respected Ms. Calendar, and then hated her for awhile, and then after her death, Buffy had loved and missed her. And after they found her body, Buffy hadn’t just had her own grief to deal with, but the misery of the group. There had been Willow, who wore it on her sleeve, sobbing openly and then slowly over time adopting a few of Ms. Calendar’s traits - her interest in magic and even some of her fashion. There had been Xander, who had lashed out in anger. And worst of all, there had been Giles, who buried everything so deep inside himself, but who lost a piece of his light the day Jenny had died. Then there was the guilt, that Buffy had caused it all by ridding Angel of his soul and not killing Angelus when she had the chance.

Then there was her mom. Joyce Summers’ death was gutting in its utter banality. There was no monster to fight, no mission to go on, nothing to do. There was just an aneurysm. Buffy couldn’t barely even think about that one. Every time she did - every time she saw her mother lying there on the couch - no, she couldn’t think about that.

There was Tara and the delayed grief following her death. She had deserved so much better, better than the stray bullet and better than the aftermath. They hadn’t even been able to mourn her right away, as Willow’s desperate grief had driven her so far into darkness, that first they had to save Willow before they could even process what had happened to Tara. She had deserved better. She was a gentle soul. Buffy remember falling into tears with her head in Tara’s lap and Tara just refusing to judge her or hate her or feel any of the horrible feelings that Buffy was feeling about herself. And then Tara bled out on the bedroom floor and was gone.

Anya and Spike were like a one-two punch to the gut. They died as heroes, but that didn’t change the fact that they were gone, two former demons, who in the end had found their humanity. Xander didn’t talk much about Anya and Buffy didn’t talk much about Spike. But Buffy thought about them both, and did so often.

Now there was Giles, killed by Angel in the exact same way Jenny had been killed. Buffy tried to tell herself it wasn’t really Angel. It was the Twilight, a malicious consciousness that had taken over his body. But it wore his face, and she couldn’t forget that.

_ “Buffy, you abandoned me. For this?” _

The Twilight’s words echoed over and over again in her mind, coming to her in Angel’s voice.

Her eyes burned and she curled into a ball, turning away from the night sky, as if she could her block out all of the world if she just held herself tight enough.

“Please stop. Please. Please. Please,” she whimpered. 

She shouldn’t be this weak. She was the slayer, after all. But she didn’t have the energy to be strong right now. She was twenty four years old, and she felt ancient. Her body hurt, her muscles ached, and her chest felt like it was being crushed.

They didn’t really need her anymore. There were plenty of other slayers to save the world.

“Make it stop. Please make it stop,” she said.

“Well, stop the world and let me off,” said a voice behind her.

Buffy jerked up into a sitting position, going tense. She could barely make out the figure through the shadows of the trees and it didn’t come closer. The voice sound female and drawled out like a lazy river.

“Who are you?” Buffy asked.

“A friend.”

“You aren’t my friend.” She practically spat the words at the figure. She wasn’t in the mood for any games or half truths right now.

“A demon, then. Or an angel. Who cares? Your sorrow called to me.”

Buffy got to her feet and glared at the figure, trying to make out the details. It wore a long black cloak with the hood up, but she couldn’t discern any features of the face underneath. Buffy didn’t want to go any closer to get a better look.

“How did you come to this forest?”

“I-” Buffy began. She stopped and frowned. She couldn’t remember. She should be able to remember something like that. The forest seemed to waver around her for a moment, as if it were as intangible as shadows.

The figure laughed, a rich bubbling sort of sound.

“You have unlocked things that no slayer, not even Sineya, could unlock.”

Buffy wasn’t even surprised the figure knew who she was. She supposed this was all part of one of her prophetic dreams - though it was damper and chillier than her dreams usually were.

“I have decided to grant you one wish,” said the figure.

“Isn’t three wishes how this usually goes?” asked Buffy, putting her hands on her hips.

“I am not a Jinn. You get one wish. Consider it a thank you.”

Buffy didn’t bother to ask what she had done to merit the thanks. “In my experience these wishes granted from demons never end well.”

The figure wavered, getting hazy, and then came back into clarity.

“Earlier you begged to make it stop. I could grant that one. It could all stop.” The figure raised a hand as if about to snap.

“No, wait. I don’t really want that,” said Buffy, holding her hands out to stop the thing. All the adrenaline that she had felt at the sight of the intruding demon seemed to leak out of her, leaving her once again exhausted and shivering. Her lungs clenched and she gasped in a breath of air.

“I just want a do-over,” said Buffy, feeling her shoulders slump.

“A do-over,” the figure repeated.

“I want another chance, to save them, to stop them all from dying.”

“Well, I don’t think we can save  _ all _ of them, but some. Perhaps. Let’s see. A do-over. Well, this will be interesting. We’ll have to re-write certain histories, add a few new players to the mix, leave some of the old players out. And we’ll need a new setting, of course, what with Sunnydale sinking away into the maw of Hell.”

Buffy couldn’t see the figure’s face, but she thought it must be smiling.

“Let’s get started, then.” The figure raised its hand and snapped its fingers with an echoing pop. Buffy felt herself falling backwards, but the ground wasn’t there to catch her. Instead she fell and fell, tumbling through the inky void, falling through shadows. 


	2. Welcome to 2019

Buffy’s eyes snapped open, and she found herself in the exact opposite of the forest. Instead, she lay in a fluffy bed, and she was warm and dry. Looking around, she didn’t recognize where she was, but she found something familiar about the room. It was small, mostly taken up by the full-sized bed, similar to her old bedroom in Sunnydale. The walls were a light blue gray and covered with posters of bands that she didn’t recognize. There was a dresser and a closet, both overflowing with clothing, and a desk across from them. Buffy tossed off the bedspread and opened the bottom drawer of the desk, finding it stock full of stakes, daggers, and crosses - the same place where she had always kept her collection. On top of the desk was a strange looking laptop, sleeker and thinner than she had ever seen.

“Buffy!” called a voice from downstairs. Her mother’s voice.

Buffy froze. Tears instantly popped into her eyes. She had wanted to hear that voice again for so long.

“Come on, you don’t want to be late for your first day of school!”

Buffy ran out of the bedroom and down the staircase, following the voice until she reached the kitchen of the house, where Joyce Summers was pouring out a bowl of cereal for Dawn.

“Finally, I thought I was going to have to roll you out of bed myself,” said Joyce. She had barely gotten the last word out, though, when she was pulled into a tight hug by Buffy. She startled a little, but then hugged Buffy back.

“Everything ok, sweetie?” she asked.

Buffy blinked hard, trying to get rid of the tears that were threatening to fall. She pulled back and smiled at her mom.

“Everything’s fine,” she said.

Joyce tilted her head, examining Buffy carefully.

“I, um, just had a really bad dream,” said Buffy.

Joyce reached up and rubbed Buffy’s cheek. “Well, must have been a rough one. Sit down and eat. You might feel better. Oh, and I really need to get dressed. Ok, everyone downstairs and ready to go in thirty minutes.” She passed the cereal to Buffy and then bustled out of the kitchen.

Dawn took a loud bite of her cereal and narrowed her eyes at Buffy.

“Why are you being so weird?” she asked.

Buffy turned and grinned at her little sister. She reached out and tousled her hair, which Dawn flinched away from.

“Just nerves about the first day of school, I guess,” Buffy said happily.

***

They made it out of the house on time, but just barely. Dawn had to run back inside for her notebook and then Joyce had to go back for her employee ID.

“Oh, Buffy, you forgot your phone in the living room,” Joyce said, when at last they were all in the car and ready to go. She handed Buffy a strange metal rectangle that looked absolutely nothing like a phone. It had a picture off a supernova on one side and a black screen on the other. Buffy inspected it for a moment and then put it away in her bag. She’d figure out how to use later. In the backseat, Dawn was staring intently at her own “phone,” her thumbs moving at lightning speed across the surface of it.

“Thanks, mom,” said Buffy.

As they drove across the town, Buffy watched out the window, trying to get some sense of where they were. It wasn’t southern California, that was for sure, but it was warm and seemed about the same size of town that Sunnydale had been.

“Listen, I just wanted to thank you girls for being so mature about the move. I know it’s not easy starting over in a new town, new school, but I really think we can set up a life here,” said Joyce.

Dawn rolled her eyes, but Buffy grinned.

“Me, too, Mom. Are you excited about your new job?” she asked.

And then Joyce was off talking about the new art gallery and all the exhibits they had and the unique architecture of the place. If Buffy was honest, she wasn’t listening to the details that carefully. She was just content to hear her mother sounding so enthusiastic about something.

They pulled up to the Edward Nolan Middle School and dropped Dawn off, and then continued on toward the high school.

“Hey, Mom,” Buffy said.

“Yeah?”

“You’re not having an headaches are you?”

Joyce glanced away from the road for a moment to look at Buffy.

“No, why’s that?”

“Just part of that bad dream. You’ll let me know, won’t you? If you do.”

Joyce looked even more confused at that, but she said, “Sure, honey,” all the same.

Buffy leaned back in the car, feeling lighter than she had in years. She wasn’t even dreading going through high school again, though she was a little antsy to see what else had changed and what was the same in this new reality. She was relieved that Dawn was here, sullen teenager though she was. And her relationship with her mom felt like it had been before the whole vampire slayer, burning-down-the-school-gym ordeal. She was still trying to piece everything together, but so far, things were looking pretty okay.

Joyce pulled into the high school parking lot and Buffy leaned forward to look around. It was a three story brick building that looked far more modern than Sunnydale High. Buffy just hoped she would never have to blow this one up.

“Good luck,” said Joyce, as Buffy got out of the car.

“Thanks.” Buffy paused for a moment and then added a quick, “I love you, Mom.” She shut the car door and walked up to the front of the building.

“Brightville High School,” she read over the doors. She had never heard of Brightville, but by the red, white, and blue flag hanging on a tall pole outside, she was still in America at least. What part of the country, though, was still to be decided. But that could wait.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” called a girl’s voice.

Buffy turned to see a skateboarder swerve around the girl on the sidewalk, wobbling a little to regain his balance. 

“Sorry,” Xander shouted back to the girl.

He stopped and picked up his board under one arm, before leaping up the steps toward the school. It had been years since Buffy had seen Xander looking so young and unscarred. He still had both his eyes, and so was able to squint them both at Buffy. She realized she was staring at him and tried to cover it up with an awkward little wave. He waved back, looking confused.

“Hey, Xan- um, man. Hey, man. Um, I’m new. Do you think you could show me where the office is?” she asked.

Xander was definitely looked wigged out now, but he shrugged and agreed.

“I’m Buffy Summers, by the way.”

“Xander Harris, nice to meet you. So where’d you move here from?”

“Southern California, not too far from LA.”

“Sorry you had to leave that. Although, it’s not too bad here. Especially if you like hiking. Which I don’t.”

Buffy laughed. “We had our share of that back home, too.”

“What brings you all the way to Arkansas?”

_ Arkansas? Now that was a new one _ , Buffy thought 

“Mom’s new job. At that art gallery,” she said.

“Oh, yeah. My uncle works there, too. Well, he cleans it. It’s a cool place. Here’s the office.” Xander tapped the wall next to the door.

“Thanks, so much.”

“Sure, see you around, Buffy.”

Buffy pushed the glass door open and immediately ran into a familiar face, though not what she would call a friendly one.

“Can I help you?” asked the scornful voice of Principal Snyder. He seemed untouched by the changes to time, space, and reality. He wore the same gray suit, the same scowl, and the same bitterness carried compactly in his five foot frame.

“I’m a new student here. Buffy Summers.”

“Admin desk,” he said, pointing to it, before walking out of the office.

Luckily, the lady that worked there was much more helpful and quickly got Buffy set up with a class schedule and a student ID.

“Now, just head down the hall, turn left, and they’ll get you all set up with textbooks in the library,” said the administrator.

Buffy thanked her and made her way toward the school library, feeling her heart beat a little faster at the thought of seeing Giles alive again. She wondered if he was waiting for her arrival, just as he had the last time, and if he would immediately hand her a book about vampires. She walked into the library, which was a big room full of windows, wooden shelves, and desks with the thinnest computer monitors she had ever seen.

“Need any help?” asked a voice.

Buffy turned to face a middle-aged woman with thick glasses.

“Um, are you the librarian?” Buffy asked.

“Yes, I’m Ms. Abrams. Are you new here? I can get you set up at the front desk.”

Buffy followed the woman over, trying to keep up as Ms. Abrams talked about school email accounts, electronic books, and something called an ipad.

“Although, we still have some hard copies, if you don’t want the e version. They are heavier, though,” said Ms. Abrams.

“I’ll take the hard copies, please. I’m pretty strong,” said Buffy.

“Of course. Can I see your schedule?” 

Buffy hadn’t looked at it herself yet, but she handed it over.

“So are you the only librarian here?” Buffy asked, trying to sound casual, as she craned her neck to scan the room.

“No, it’s me and Ms. Bankowski, but she’s not in today.”

Buffy frowned.

Ms. Abrams was muttering to herself as she pulled out Buffy’s textbooks.

“Ah, biology with Ms. Casimir. That’s always interesting. And world history with Mr. Giles. That was one of my favorite subjects in school.”

Buffy had to force herself not to snatch the schedule out of Ms. Abrams hands to see what period she had history and when she could finally see Giles.

“Well, you are all set,” said Ms. Abrams, handing over the books and the schedule. Buffy grabbed it and saw that she had world history for fourth period, just before lunch. First, though, she had to get through English literature.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the stack of books.

As she walked through the wide halls, Buffy scanned the faces, picking out the ones she knew. There was Larry Blaisdell, striding down the hallway with his arm around a boy with glasses. Buffy was startled to see him there - though pleased - and ended up dropping one of her books.

“Oh, let me get that,” said Larry, grabbing the book and handing it to her. He smiled and then took the other boy’s hand in his and continued down the hallway. Buffy watched them for a moment, thinking how out-and-proud Larry was so much more preferable to angry-and-lashing-out Larry.

She also spotted Aura, one of Cordelia’s former followers, and Theresa, who had been one of Angelus’ first victims. Jonathan was there, too, still looking shy and withdrawn. Buffy smiled at him and he looked back behind himself as if thinking she was smiling at someone else.

The bell rang and Buffy hurried into the English classroom, taking a quick seat next to the living, breathing Cordelia Chase. Cordelia’s clothes were different, though they were sure to be the height of fashion in this new reality. She looked tired, though, with circles under her eyes and a far off expression on her face. She didn’t even look over when Buffy sat down.

“Hey, are you ok?” Buffy asked.

Cordelia jumped a little and then quickly put on a fake smile.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I was just zoning out a little,” she said. Her accent was much more southern than southern Californian. In a way, though, it suited her. “Are you new here?” she asked.

“Yes, just moved up. I’m Buffy.”

“Cordelia.”

The teacher came in then and stood in front of what Buffy had assumed was an ordinary whiteboard. With the click of a button, however, it turned into a large computer screen. Then Buffy noticed the date at the bottom of the screen: 8/12/19.

  1. Well, that explained some of the weirdness with the thin computers and buttonless phones. Ms. Calendar must be having the time of her life.

At that thought, Buffy pulled out her schedule. She hadn’t seen Ms. Calendar’s name on it before, but she wasn’t enrolled in a computer science class. She’d have to find Ms. Calendar’s classroom later. 

Buffy managed to make it through English class without embarrassing herself too badly with her complete lack of knowledge about the technology and modern culture. At one point the teacher made some reference to someone called Blake Shelton, and Buffy blurted out, “Who’s Blake Shelton?”

“Exactly,” said Cordelia, “he’s so over.”

The class laughed at that, so Buffy figured she was doing alright.

“What do you have next?” Cordelia asked, once class had ended. 

“Biology with Ms. Casimir.”

“Oh, I hear she’s tough. I’ve got Dr. Gregory. He’s supposed to be way easier.” Cordelia paused when she saw Buffy’s face fall. “Oh, but don’t even worry about it. Casimir has great fashion, you know, and no one with shoes like that could be pure evil.”

Buffy, as usual, didn’t follow Cordelia’s logic, but she actually enjoyed hearing it again.

“Oh, hey, Willow,” Cordelia said, looking behind Buffy.

Buffy was already smiling when she turned to face her best friend. Willow, like everyone else, looked a little different in the new reality. She wore a pair of ripped blue jeans and a plaid shirt over a black tee, but she had the same long, red hair and timid smile that Buffy remembered from the original high school.

“I like your outfit,” said Buffy quickly, remembering Cordelia’s rude comments about Willow’s dress when she had first met them both in the old reality.

Willow looked down for a moment.

“Thanks?” she said.

“This is Buffy. She’s new. You’ve got Casimir for biology, right?” Cordelia said.

“Yep,” said Willow.

“Willow’s like a genius, just sit next to her and you’ll be fine.” Cordelia smiled at them both and then swept off down the hall toward her own class.

“I’m not really a genius,” said Willow, though she smiled and perhaps even blushed a little as she watched Cordelia walk away. Buffy raised her eyebrows.

“Well, honestly any help you could give me would be great. See, I have this grand plan to not flunk all me classes. And I hear Ms. Casimir is rough.”

“Oh, she’s alright, really. Just a bit strict. And scary.”

“So, it’s ok if I sit with you?”

Willow’s face brightened.

“Yeah, sure!” she said.

They walked into the classroom and got seats at one of the front lab tables.

The teacher came in and Buffy could see what they meant about scary. She looked about forty, with thick brown hair, pale eyes, and some of the highest cheekbones Buffy had ever seen. She strolled in on a pair of towering heels and gracefully introduced herself. She wasn’t a vampire, not in the bright sunlight of the classroom, but there was something about her that put Buffy on edge.

“Welcome back to most of you, and welcome for the first time to our new student,” she said, gesturing to Buffy. “Well, I’m not going to waste our first class going over the syllabus, as I trust by now most of you can read. So, we’ll just dive right into the cell and its organelles.”

Maybe Buffy had spoke too soon when she said she was relieved to go back to high school.

***

By the time fourth period came about, Buffy nearly dragged Willow toward the class. Their schedules were pretty similar, though Willow was in two more AP classes than Buffy and was taking French instead of Spanish.

“Wow, you must really like history,” said Willow, trying to keep up.

“Oh, yeah. Love it. And I just really want to get a good seat.”

“I get you. A lot of the girls are super into Mr. Giles. He’s British and has this sexy voice.”

Buffy stopped dead in the hall and scrunched up her face in disgust.  _ Gross, Wil, that’s our dad! _ she thought to herself.

“I’m not- that’s not- I just like the subject,” she said, while Willow just smirked at her.

Xander had the class with them, as well. He grabbed the desk behind Willow and turned the chair around backwards before sitting in it.

“Day one and I already feel like my brain has melted and is oozing out of my ears,” he said.

Willow patted him on the arm.

“How are you liking Brightville High so far, Buffy?” he asked.

“Biology was hard, but everything else is going pretty ok. So far.”

“Hey, what are you doing after school today?” Willow asked. “Maybe the three of us could go get Starbucks and study.”

“I can’t. I just got a new job,” said Xander.

“Really? You didn’t tell me that. What are you doing?”

“Well, you are looking at the brand spanking new delivery boy for Pete’s Pizza. If you’re still there at midnight, though, I’ll bring you some breadsticks. That’s when I get off.”

“Midnight? Xander, when are you going to sleep?” Willow asked, looking concerned.

“When I’m dead, Wil,” he said with a shrug.

He was still very much the Xander she knew, but Buffy was noticing something a little more muted about him than usual. The jokes and the sarcasm were still there, but the gloominess underneath seemed a bit more present.

“I’ll be there, Willow. But I doubt my mom will let me stay out past midnight. Maybe we could all do something this weekend, though?” Buffy suggested.

Giles walked in then, looking only slightly less formal than he had in the original reality. He wore a pair of dark gray slacks, a dress shirt, and a tie, but no tweed jacket or vest.

“Mr. Harris, please demonstrate to the class that you are capable of sitting in a chair properly,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” said Xander, turning his chair back around.

“Right, everyone, my name is Mr. Giles. I know I’ve had some of you before for US history, and I’m glad to have you back to cover the rest of the world.” His eyes passed over the class, and passed over Buffy, without so much as a trace of recognition in his eyes.

***

“Mr. Giles?” said Buffy, going up to his desk after class.

“Yes?” he said, barely glancing up.

“I’m Buffy Summers. I’m new here.”

“Yes, well, welcome to Brightville. Are you settling in ok?”

She nodded, still looking expectantly at him.

“Do you maybe have a book for me?” she asked.

“No, you’ll have to go to the library for all your books. Ms. Abrams can get you all set up.”

“Oh, um, alright. Thank you.”

Buffy left the classroom a little dejected. As marvelous it was to have Giles alive and well again, having him not recognize her was an unexpected and unpleasant development. Was he not a Watcher at all in this reality? Maybe Buffy wasn’t even the Slayer anymore? It could be anyone. It could be Cordelia, for all Buffy knew. There may not be a Slayer at all. She shook her head. She was letting her thoughts run away with her.

Her stomach growled, then, reminding her that it was her lunch period. Brightville, like Sunnydale, had a semi-open campus, to make up for the too small cafeteria. Buffy went and sat out on the lawn to eat lunch with Willow and Xander, enjoying the sunshine while they could. Arkansas, it seemed, had actual seasons, which meant a real winter. Buffy wasn’t looking forward to that in the least.

“So, what shall we do this weekend?” asked Xander. “Raise a little heck, paint the town a little pink?”

“Not red?” asked Willow.

“Well, I thought we could paint it red, but then I also thought about how much my dad would kill me if we got caught. So maybe just a little pink.”

“Fair enough,” said Buffy.

“Oh, we could go to Farmer’s Market,” said Willow excitedly, then catching Buffy’s expression, she added, “I know it sounds kinda lame, but it’s actually really cool. There’s lots of jewelry and art and everyone brings their dogs.”

“No, that sounds perfect,” said Buffy.

Cordelia walked across the lawn, flanked by Aura, Whitney, and the still-human Harmony, and Buffy noticed Willow watching them go by. Willow went a bit pink again.

“So, Cordelia, huh?” Buffy asked.

Willow made a little noise, a bit of a hybrid squeak and indignant snort.

“What?” she said.

“Do you, ya know, like her?” 

From behind Willow’s back, Xander gave an emphatic nod.

“No, she’s just- I’m just-. I don’t have everything figured out yet,” she said.

Buffy put her hand over Willow’s. She remembered how surprised she and Xander had been when Willow first came out to them. That was on the list of things she wished she could do-over. Not that it had been completely terrible. She just wished she had been more supportive right from the start, and now she supposed she had the very chance to do so.

“No need to have everything figured out just yet. Do you know if she likes girls?” Buffy asked.

“I doubt it. Have you seen her fingernails?” said Willow.

Xander looked utterly dumbfounded by that comment and Buffy chuckled at his expression. She settled back into the grass, closing her eyes.

“Hey, have you guys ever played Anywhere But Here?” she asked. Though in all honesty, and despite the minor hiccups, Buffy was right where she wanted to be.

***

After spending the day watching other students on their strange phones, Buffy thought she may have figured it out. She touched the circle on the bottom and it took her thumb print. Then the screen changed to one full of little squares. She tapped the one called “contacts” and  _ voila _ ! She was able to call her mom.

“Not so hard,” she said.

“Hi, Buffy. Everything ok?”

“Yep, I just wanted to see if I could study with Wil- with one of my new classmates tonight. We were going to go to a coffee shop.”

“Sure, I can pick you up from there if you need me to later. Just text me.”

Buffy sighed as they hung up. She had just figured out how to make a phone call on the damn contraption. Now she had to figure out texting? God, and she was starting to sound like Giles, frustrated with all the new technology.

Speaking of tech, there was still no sign of Ms. Calendar. Buffy had even asked Willow about her, but Willow had never heard of a teacher called that.

“Oh, I must have misheard the name then,” Buffy had said. 

No sign of Tara or Anya either, but perhaps they wouldn’t show up until later, as it happened before. At least she had her mom and the core of the Scooby gang. That was enough for now.


	3. And Things That Go Bump in the Night

Xander showed up early to Pete’s Pizza’s in his dad’s old, run down volvo, now fitted with the pizza logo sign on its roof. The manager, Ron, had briefly introduced himself and then passed Xander off to an employee named Kendra. She was nearly as tall as he was, with dark skin and long braids. He thought he had seen her before on the high school track team.

“First time delivering in Brightville?” she asked him.

“Yep, first job really. Other than mowing lawns.”

“Ok, I’m going to break it down for you. This town can get a little freaky after dark, so here’s how you avoid the freaky. Step one: shoes. They’ve got to be comfortable and good for running. Step two: anyone invites you in, you run. I don’t care if they say they’ve got weed or if the person is the hottest you’ve ever seen, you drop that pizza and run. Step three: they offer a tip, you run. All that’s done online now, so you don’t even wait for the cash. Step four: they’ve got freaky eyes, freaky sharp teeth, anything like that…”

“You run?” Xander filled in.

“You got it,” she said.

“Alright, I think I can remember all that.” He smiled, but her expression was more stern.

“Seriously, man, be careful,” she said.

He nodded. “I will.”

“Ok, I’ll show you around the place.”

***

“How is it day one and I’m already lost?” Buffy asked with a groan. She and Willow had set themselves up in the coffee shop, books spread out around them and Willow’s laptop open in front of her.

“What are you working on?”

“Algebra II. As if it wasn’t bad enough, they make us take it twice.”

Willow gave her a sympathetic wince.

“Well, maybe if you had a reason to get through it. Like, if we both finish before eight, we get cookies.”

“Alright, deal,” said Buffy.

***

Rupert Giles was working late, as per usual, though he wasn’t technically working on his actual job-related work. This was more of a side project, a hobby in a sense. He had always been fascinated by the supernatural, ever since he had grown up hearing his grandmother’s stories of witches and werewolves and vampires. It wasn’t, however, until he had come face to face with it, had seen a real demon for the first time, that the nature of his relationship to it changed. It was no longer a fascination. It was a mission. The world was full of monsters, but fortunately it was also full of monster hunters.

Giles rubbed his eyes and rolled up his shirt sleeves, catching sight of the dark tattoo on his forearm. None of his students had ever seen the mark, and they never would. He did this for them, in a way, to keep them all safe. As troublesome as the high schoolers could be, he really cared for the little bastards.

Most of his occult books were at home, far from the prying eyes of Snyder and the students, but he kept a few locked in his desk, to read once he had finished grading papers or creating lesson plans. Currently, he was reading accounts of a local beast, a great hairy and horned thing called an Ozark howler.

There were a surprising number of reports of the supernatural surrounding Brightville, as well as a death rate to rival Little Rock, the so-called murder capital of the southeast. It’s what had drawn him to the place. Usually stories of missing people, grave robbery, suicide cults, and rabid humans drove people away or at least prevented them from moving in. But Rupert Giles saw the potential in Brightville. Living here was a chance to study the supernatural up close, to test its weaknesses and learn it secrets. And then to destroy it.

***

On the far side of town, outside a tall house on a hill, a vampire was lurking in the garden. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and utterly focused on the back door of the house, tense and waiting for the resident to come outside. He felt like he had been waiting for hours, but he was patient. He had to be.

At last the door creaked open and the woman stepped out.

He moved quickly toward her.

She turned and saw him.

“What the hell are you doing skulking about like that?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“You told me to come over and when I’d finished,” he said.

“But of course you didn’t knock on the door like a normal being.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Well, you are disturbing me. Did you put my shovel back in the shed?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” she said, her voice smooth as silk. “Oh, and Liam. Next time you bury a body for me, try not to track the mud all the way back to my goddamn house.” She gestured down to his filthy shoes. Then without waiting for him to reply, she went back inside.

“Oh, of course, Ms. Casimir. Anything for you, Ms. Casimir,” he spat bitterly. Why didn’t the old witch do her own ruddy digging for once, see if she could do it without getting her shoes muddy. Not that she would ever get those ridiculous heels she always wore anywhere near dirt or grime of any kind.

Liam rolled his shoulders and headed back into town.

***

Buffy and Willow had decided to walk to an ice cream shop to celebrate the successful completion of their first night of homework. Buffy was relieved at how easily they fell back into their usual conversations. Willow may dress a little differently here, but she was still very much the high school Willow that Buffy had known and loved. Not that she didn’t love the more confident witch Willow, but witch Willow had a lot more pain to deal with. It was nice to just talk about music and movies - which Buffy using to silently make lists of what she needed to watch and listen to - and about all the silly high school gossip that Willow knew. There was no mention of vampires or demons and any of that. It was just a regular old conversation.

Then they heard screaming in the distance.

Well, that didn’t last.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” said Buffy.

Willow’s eyes were wide. “Is that-” she started to say, but Buffy was already sprinting down the sidewalk toward the sound. She could hear Willow running behind her, not following Buffy’s instruction to wait at all.

Under the glow of a distant streetlamp, a figure in a red shirt was sprinting as fast as he could toward them. It was Xander, dressed in his Pete’s Pizza uniform and running like the devil himself was behind him. As it turned out it wasn’t the devil, but it was a vampire. It looked different from the ones Buffy was used to, lacking the ridged forehead, but with a mouth full of fangs, a pale face, and white eyes, it was pretty unmistakable. She just hoped it had all the same weaknesses.

“Xander, keep running to Willow,” she shouted as she charged past him.

The vampire was still fixated on Xander, but that soon changed when Buffy slammed into him, tackling him to the ground. She jumped to her feet, as did the vamp, hissing and snarling at her. He lunged and she dodged, before landing a solid punch on his jaw and then a hard kick to his side. He wheezed a little and then turned and ran. She grabbed a nearby fencepost in front of someone’s lawn and broke off a piece before pursuing him.

He led her down the quiet streets and into an empty park. She was gaining on him when all of a sudden another figure came out of the gloom and tackled the vampire. Once he was down on the ground, Buffy leapt forward and plunged the stake into his heart.

The vampire’s eyes went wide and he coughed up a gob of blood.

Oh, god, oh, god. Buffy just killed a human. Just like Faith had done.

“You have to really twist it in there,” said a familiar voice.

Buffy looked over to see Angel standing up and brushing grass off his pants. The last time she had seen him, he had broken Giles’ neck. Maybe she should just kill him now and prevent all of that. But she had loved him so much once. She still did, in a way.

She turned back to the vampire, who let out a final little gasp and fell back, obviously dead.

“Why didn’t he poof?” she asked.

“Poof?”

“Well, usually when I kill vampires, they sort of go poof. You know, turn to dust.”

Angel looked at her like she was crazy.

“They don’t go poof, kid.” He sighed. “Look I’ll take care of this. Just another body for me to bury. Anyway, you should probably get out of here. It isn’t safe to be out at night.”

“Hey, I’m the one that killed him.”

“You got lucky.”

“I did not.” Buffy crossed her arms and gave him her best hard glare. He was too busy gathering up the body to notice.

“Do you...know who I am?” she asked him.

“Why would I?”

She supposed no one else did, so why would he. He had the first time, though.

“I’m Buffy. The vampire slayer.”

He looked up at that.

“Well, I’m Liam, the cursed vampire who would very much like to be not slayed.”

Already he was more open than Angel had ever been without pressing him for information.

“Liam? Your name’s not Angel?”

“Well, it sure isn’t. I’ll see you around, Buffy the vampire slayer,” he said.

As usual, he was gone into the night before she could reply.

She thought about following after him, but decided against it. She needed to check on Willow and Xander.

“What the hell was that thing?” asked Xander when Buffy returned. He was bent over and panting hard.

“Oh, that. That was, um...PCP. Yeah, it makes people go totally nuts and violent,” lied Buffy, rather badly.

“So naturally you chased after him,” said Xander.

Willow patted him on the back. “PCP? That’s a little nineties, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry. What hard drugs are the kids into these days?” asked Buffy.

“Opioids, I think,” said Willow, completely serious.

“Fantastic. What happened, Xander?”

Xander straightened up, regaining his breath finally. “I was delivering a pizza, but when I was walking back to my car, the dude just came charging down the sidewalk at me. So I took Kendra’s advice and I ran like hell.”

“Kendra?” said Buffy.

“Yeah, she’s my new coworker. She’s great. She gave me a lot of good advice about how to not die on the job.”

“Well, that’s always good,” said Willow.

“Come on, we’ll walk you back to your car.” Buffy nodded her head in the direction Xander had originally come running.

“Much appreciated. Thank you.”

“What happened to him?” asked Willow as they walked. “The PCP guy?”

“Oh, he got away,” said Buffy.

She wondered if she should just come right out and tell them what had really happened and what she really was. For now, though, it seemed safer for them to not know and to have some distance from the whole slayage thing. They’d probably find out soon enough.

***

“By the innocence of the child, the grace of the maiden, the wisdom of the crone, I invoke thee. By the power of Hecate, by the black dog and the polecat, by the torches, I invoke thee. By spirits of the sky, by the ghosts of the land, by the demons of the fires, I invoke thee.”

Liam may have thought that Victoria Casimir never did her own dirty work, but what did that brooding idiot of a vampire know? He was useful for the heavy lifting sort of jobs, getting rid of corpses, turning living things into corpses, rearranging her furniture, anything like that. But she would be damned if she let him perform magic for her. There were some things that required finesse, experience, and of course the ability to channel the forces of the Hellmouth, all of which Liam sadly lacked. Victoria didn’t mind, however. She enjoyed doing it herself.

The woods of Brightville on a moonlit night were hardly the safest place to be, but Victoria was well aware of all the freaks and sneaks that prowled her town. After tonight, though, she would never have to fear them again. 

Well, that was the plan at least.

“By the wrath of jealous Hera, by the hunt of ferocious Artemis, by the plots of cunning Athena, I invoke thee. By the pain and the thunder and the vengeance, I invoke thee.”

There were candles laid out in a circle around her and they began to flare and burn brighter and brighter, with their hot white light spilling through the cracks between the trees. The shadows thrashed and danced with each flickering of the building flames. And Victoria’s voice grew with them.

“By Alecto, the endless, by Megaera the envious, by Tisiphone the destroyer, I invoke thee. By the hatred and the power and the fires of Hell, I invoke thee! Anyanka! I offer you this sacrifice!”

Victoria reached forward and pulled something out of a satchel in front of her. She raised it high above her head.

“The fresh heart of a guilty man,” she said, and then brought the raw heart to her lips and tore off a bite. She ate and ate, forcing the cold, slimy chunks of it down her throat, until her mouth and fingers were stained red and the heart was fully devoured.

“I invoke you, Anyanka, Spirit of Vengeance and Destruction! Come to me now!” 

She threw her head back and her arms open wide, her eyes closed, waiting for the demon to bless her. The candles flared so high they nearly licked the tall trees above them, and then they went out. Victoria waited a moment and then opened her eyes. She lowered her arms.

“Well, what the fuck?” she said, to no one in particular.

She still felt very much untouched by Anyanka’s power. Why the hell hadn’t it worked? She was the most powerful witch in town. She should at the very least be able to summon a demon. Maybe the heart hadn’t been from a guilty enough man. He had been a serial sexual harasser and raging misogynist, but perhaps Anyanka desired a rapist or pedophile. Victoria would have to rework the spell a little. And find a new candidate for the sacrifice, of course.

***

After Victoria Casimir had gathered up her candles and bones and the satchel that carried the heart, and had left the little clearing in the forest, a new being stepped into it. This one was pale, made paler in the moonlight. Only her eyes and her necrotic fingertips stood out, both dull black and rotten. She bent down and ran one finger across the dirt, picking up a leftover droplet of blood from the heart.

“Mediocre,” said Anyanka, but she licked it off her finger anyway.


	4. Something Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!

So far, Buffy was making it through her first week on this new hellmouth. She was getting herself on a new routine with the school and the slaying, not quite what it had been like the first time round, but it was working for her. She went to classes, and was working her way back into a new friendship with Xander and Willow. She went home and spent time with her mom and Dawn, who was somehow even more of an angst-ridden teenager than before. And then after dinner, she snuck out to patrol the new town. 

There had been one other incidence with a vampire - also sporting the white eyes and a ridgeless face - but otherwise things were quiet. She was still disappointed about the whole no-poofing-into-dust thing. But she had disposed of demon bodies before, so she found a remote spot in the woods to bury this one. Luckily, the vampires seemed to be a tiny bit more discreet than they had been in Sunnydale. And she was a more capable slayer than she had been in high school.

As she passed through the days, she kept a mental list of everyone she had found and everyone she still needed to find. Willow, Xander, and her family were all solid. Spike, Tara, Anya, and Ms. Calendar were still MIA. And then there was Giles, very much present, but very much unaware that he had any connection to Buffy other than teaching her world history.

A part of her wanted him to just have a normal, demon-free life. But the other part very much wanted her mentor back.

***

Giles wasn’t fool enough to go into the woods at night. He knew what demons and vampires liked to lurk there in the dark, feeding on the deer and rabbits and waiting for an unsuspecting human treat. During the day, though, it was safe enough. Well, relatively so. He had dressed himself as a regular hiker, complete with a plaid shirt and camelbak pack, in which he carried an old manuscript and a few other supplies.

As he walked, he could see a slight movement, like wisps of smoke out of the corner of his eyes. The little goblins and kobolds of the forest were watching him. They were more of a nuisance than a threat, however, and so he ignored them and they in turn didn’t come any closer to him. He could feel their beady, hungry eyes on him the whole way. Without looking back, he turned off the narrow path he had been following, going over an untamed hill until he reach the first of his traps.

Giles was no great student of magic, not even enough to call himself a warlock, but he knew enough to set the traps. They were made of iron, laced with silver, and enchanted to never ensnare the regular fauna of the area. He didn’t want to waste his time pulling foxes or possums out of them. No, they were solely meant to catch the supernatural beings around Brightville. Some he would release immediately, if they were harmless and benevolent enough, but more often than not, he would euthanize them, quickly, efficiently, and then he would leave the woods a touch safer than they had been before. He had checked the traps two days before, but there had been a rise in strange incidents since then. On the south side of town, one of the churches had reported a statue of the Virgin Mary bleeding from her stone eyes. His coworker, Mrs. Martinez, had found what turned out to be a goat’s eyeball in her soup at lunch. They were omens. Something was coming.

The first trap was empty, though there did appear to be a few flecks of dried blood on it. He frowned and continued on to the second, finding it empty as well. He went through all thirteen he had set, but it wasn’t until he reached the last trap that he found something.

Part of something.

It looked to be the leg of a hellhound. They were fearsome creatures, but unintelligent and incapable of escaping the traps. Though foxes had been known to chew off their own limbs to escape a trap, Giles had put spells on the metal circles to prevent such escapes. And besides, his traps put the caught creatures instantly into an induced sleep. He wasn’t a sadist, after all. He wanted to get rid of the monsters, not torture them. 

The hellhound couldn’t have done this. There was no blood trail, so the body hadn’t been dragged away. There was a fair sized pool of blood around the trap. By his best guess, Giles would have to say that something more powerful, more clever in the ways of magic, had come along and eaten the wretched beast. Who or what could have done such a thing, though, was for now a mystery.

***

Xander pulled up in front of a white painted house in the suburbs, and his dad’s borrowed volvo gave a shuttering sputter as he parked it. He grabbed his Pete’s Pizza baseball cap from the passenger seat and shoved it on his head, before pulling the pizza out of the back. He was glad to get rid of this one to be honest. The extra anchovies the person had ordered were stinking up the whole car.

He rang the doorbell, and got no reply. He scuffed his shoe on the porch as he waited, hoping the resident hadn’t been gruesomely murdered or some other horror. A little praying mantis watched him from the porch railing, and cocked its triangular head at him. They probably just didn’t hear him. He rang the doorbell again.

“Hey, pizza time,” he called.

The door opened.

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that,” said the woman who answered it.

Xander nearly dropped the pizza. She was, without even a sliver of a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She wore a tight black cocktail dress and a dazzling grin on her perfect face. Her eyes were catlike and smoky, and Xander couldn’t make himself look away from them.

“D-don’t worry about it,” he stuttered out, trying not to gape like an idiot at her.

“Mm, it smells delicious. Do you mind coming in for a bit? I think I left your tip on the table,” she said.

Xander was about to start nodding emphatically, when somewhere, in the back of his mind, Kendra’s voice cut through to him.

_ Anyone invites you in… _

“You run.” Xander threw the pizza at the woman and bolted off the porch. He slid over the hood the volvo, jumped into the car, and peeled away from the white house, faster than an oiled hog.

***

“Man, I think this job is bad for my health. I’m going to have a heart attack before the semester ends. Yep, I’m feeling pretty heart attack-y,” said Xander, the next day at school. “Willow, how are my glands?”

Willow gave him a quick glance. “They’re fine.” She shrugged.

“Maybe you should find another job, Xander,” said Buffy. It would be a cruel twist of fate for her to get her mom and Giles back from the dead only to lose Xander.

“No, it’s alright. Hey, at least I’m getting my exercise. I may even try out for the track team.”

Willow perked up at that.

“Track team, huh? With a certain gorgeous, Amazonian coworker,” she said with a grin, giving Xander a nudge in the ribs.

“Kendra happens to run track, yes,” said Xander, trying and failing to keep his face impassive.

Buffy still wasn’t sure what Kendra’s deal was in the new reality, if she was a slayer or just a typical high school student. But either way, she was tough and fit, and she gave Xander pretty good advice on how to not die.

“Well, I say go for it. Wil and I will go to all your meets,” said Buffy.

“With embarrassing posters, of course” added Willow.

“Oh, of course,” Buffy said with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Xander lay his head on the desk in front of him.

“Mr. Harris,” called Mr. Giles.

“Sit properly in the chair, yes, sir,” said Xander, sitting up again.

Their gossip had gotten them off topic from the project on the neolithic revolution they were supposed to be doing. Giles had let them work in groups on it in class, but by the stern look he was giving them all, they had better get back to work.

“Right, so agriculture,” said Willow, looking a bit guilty and keen to get them back on topic.

***

“Anything I can help you with, Ms. Summers?” asked Giles.

After class, Buffy had told Willow and Xander to go on ahead so she could talk to Giles. 

“Um, I was just, well, wondering. Have you, um, ever heard of the vampire slayer?” Buffy asked. She fidgeted a little with her hands and watched his face carefully. He just looked a little concerned.

“The slayer? Not many high schoolers are interested in west African occultism. Where did you hear of her?”

“A book. Sorry, I don’t remember what it was called.”

“Well, it is an interesting mythology. One girl to rid the world of all evil. Though I suppose it is an awful lot of pressure to put on one person.”

Buffy gave a forced little laugh.

“So, do you think that’s all it is? I mean, it’s just a myth?” asked Buffy.

“I don’t see what else it could be.” He said it gently, as if he were a parent telling their child that Santa Claus wasn’t real for the first time.

“Right, of course. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Giles.”

She left the classroom, her heart sinking a little.

***

Saturday morning rolled around and Buffy’s mood had improved since her frustrating conversation with Giles. He was alive, she kept telling herself. That was all that mattered.

“So, what are you girls doing today?” Joyce asked them over breakfast.

“I was planning on sleeping in,” Dawn mumbled grumpily.

“You would’ve missed Mom’s pancakes, though,” said Buffy, taking an extra big bite out of them.

“Well, if you don’t have plans, you could help me with some of the unpacking,” said Joyce.

Buffy winced. “Oh, I was actually gonna go to the farmer’s market with Willow and Xander this morning. But this afternoon, I’m so there. I’ll be like unpacking girl.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you made friends so fast.”

Joyce then looked at Dawn.

“Oh, me, too. I’m going to the market thing, too. With Buffy,” Dawn said quickly.

Buffy rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything.

Joyce chuckled. “Alright, today will just be me and my podcasts and lots of organizing.” 

Joyce’s phone rang from the living room and she went to answer it, giving Buffy a chance to lean over and whisper at Dawn.

“You just don’t want to do any work,” she said.

“Of course I don’t. It’s the weekend,” Dawn hissed right back. She paused. “Besides, I know you sneak out at night, so if you don’t want me to tell Mom about your secret boyfriend, you’ll let me come with you.”

Buffy crossed her arms.

“Fine. But I do not have a secret boyfriend. I’m just…” She didn’t have time to come up with a good excuse, though, because Joyce came back in, complaining about scam calls. Joyce went to put her finished plate in the sink, but then gasped and dropped it.

Buffy leapt to her feet.

“What? What is it?”

“Snake, snake, snake,” Joyce said, her voice going a bit high as she pointed at the drain. 

Sure enough, a little garter snake was poking its head up at them. Two heads, actually.

“It must have crawled up through the pipes. It’s all mutated,” said Buffy, frowning at it.

“Ugh, they just give me the creeps,” said Joyce.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” Buffy patted her Mom’s back and went to get a pillowcase to catch the two-headed snake.

***

“Well, I could do without the Confederate on the pedestal, but the rest is nice,” said Buffy.

The Brightville Farmer’s Market spread out around the town square and down some of its side streets. It was a bright, lively affair, with a singer or a band busking on every corner, kids running around blowing bubbles and petting the dogs, and the smell of coffee and muffins wafting out of the food trucks. Buffy was looking at the monument in the center of the square, which featured the statue of some confederate general or other.

“Welcome to the South,” said Xander.

“Yeah, it’s not so great. Well, a lot of the South is really great. But, you know, not so much the history of slavery and racial oppression,” said Willow.

“Well, California’s history, not so great with that either,” said Buffy, thinking about the Chumash spirits she had met years ago.

“Will you buy me a bear claw?” asked Dawn, looking at a bakery stand and not at all listening to their conversation.

Buffy just handed her some money.

“Thanks for letting Dawn tag alone,” she told Willow and Xander. “I know she can be a little, well, thirteen. But she has layers deep down. Deep, deep down.”

Willow laughed and said, “No worries.”

“I myself was the dreaded thirteen once. And I turned out… well, anyway, she’ll get through it,” said Xander.

“But will the rest of us?” asked Buffy.

Dawn returned with her mouth full of pastry and they continued their lazy walk around the square, looking at all the pottery, paintings, and flowers. They came to one stand, displaying jars of honey and baskets of tomatoes and berries, which was unattended other than a large shaggy cat lazing in a bed.

“Hi, kitty,” said Dawn, reaching out to pet it.

The cat made an angry groaning sound and Dawn pulled her hand back.

“Oh, don’t mind Sweetheart. He’s just a little fussy.”

The owner of the stand came back, carrying a bag of green beans and began setting them up. 

“Hi, Ms. Calendar,” said Willow brightly.

“Oh, Jenny, please. It’s not like I’m one of your teachers,” she said.

It was all Buffy could do not to throw her arms around Jenny. But Buffy figured she probably didn’t want some strange girl hugging her for no apparent reason. All Buffy could think about was how desperately Jenny had tried to make everything right, how she had died finding a way to give Angel back his soul. Buffy wanted to thank her and apologize to her and forgive her all at once, but all she could do was smile politely as Willow introduced them.

“Welcome to Brightville. I hope the cat didn’t upset you.” Jenny smiled at her.

“No, no. He’s great. A real Sweetheart,” said Buffy.

“I know. It’s a stupid name. My niece picked it out and I don’t have the heart to say no to her. But it doesn’t really suit him.”

The cat gave them all a glowering look.

“Do you grow all this yourself?” Buffy asked, gesturing at all the produce.

“Yep, all organic.”

“The honey is to die for, and totally worth spending my hard earned delivery money on,” said Xander, pulling out his wallet and grabbing one of the jars.

“Xander got a fancy new job at Pete’s Pizza,” Willow told Jenny.

“Pizza delivery, that’s kind of dangerous around here, isn’t it?” asked Jenny, looking concerned.

“Well, it pays the bills,” said Xander, handing her the jar of honey.

“Oh, you know what, I think the lid is dented. Let me grab you a different one.” She ducked down below the table and then brought out a new - and Buffy noticed much larger - jar of honey to give to him.

Xander popped the lid off and ate some straight out of the jar, before offering it to Dawn to put on her bear claw. Just what Buffy needed, Dawn on a double sugar rush.

“Oh, god,” said Xander suddenly. Buffy went tense. “I hate seeing teachers outside of school.”

They turned to watch Ms. Casimir walking up the street with a solid black doberman at her side. The dog barked once at Sweetheart, who hissed back until Jenny picked him up into her arms.

“Hi, Ms. Casimir,” said Willow.

“Hi, guys. Enjoying the market?” she said with a smile.

Buffy didn’t quite know what it was, but her slayer spidey senses were definitely pinging on something. She had thought Ms. Casimir made her nervous just because she was a strict teacher and intimidatingly smart, but seeing her outside the classroom, she felt that there was definitely something else. It seemed like Jenny was picking up on the same vibes, because she was regarding Ms. Casimir with a forced expression of polite impassivity, but with a seething anger below the surface.

“And Ms. Calendar, how is that poor stray of yours?” asked Ms. Casimir, with her voice sounding friendly enough, but with a look of utter disdain on her face.

“He’s fine,” said Jenny, openly glaring now.

“Such a shame what happened to the last one. Hit by a car, wasn’t it? You should really keep them indoors.”

Jenny gave a tight little nod, but said nothing.

Xander and Willow were both shuffling uncomfortably and even Dawn seemed to have picked up on the tension. 

“Oh, there’s Mr. Giles,” said Willow loudly, and she waved at him, desperate for any distraction.

“Good morning,” he said, coming over to them.

“Yes, isn’t it? But I’m afraid I must pick up some fresh fruit, so I’ll see you all on Monday.” Ms. Casimir gave a final disapproving look to Jenny’s produce and then moved on to another stall to shop from. Jenny glared after her for a long moment.

“Ready for the quiz on Monday?” asked Giles.

“There’s a quiz on Monday?” said Xander, eyes going wide.

Giles just sighed.

“It’s ok. We’ll study tomorrow,” said Willow.

“Didn’t classes just start last week?” asked Jenny.

They nodded.

“And you’re quizzing them already?” She gave Giles a look.

“It’s only ten points,” he said, looking a tiny bit bashful.

Buffy watched them for a moment and then quickly said, “You know, we’d really better go...do that thing. So we’ll leave you two to talk. Oh, nice to meet you, Jenny,” She grabbed Xander, Willow, and Dawn and pulled them away from the stand over to one the benches to sit, though she kept glancing back at Giles and Jenny.

“What was that all about?” Dawn asked.

“I just thought they might want some alone time to talk,” said Buffy.

“In the middle of a crowded farmer’s market?” Xander raised an eyebrow at her.

“Well, you know, maybe...It’s just like you said, Xander. It’s weird seeing teachers outside of school.”

“Preach,” he said.

***

“A very strange girl,” said Giles, as he and Jenny watched Buffy dragging the others away.

“She seems nice enough. She probably just doesn’t want to spend her Saturday talking to a teacher,” said Jenny, scratching Sweetheart under his chin.

“I’ll have you know, my class is fun and compelling-.”

“I’m sure.”

“-And the students hang on my every word,” he said, getting a little carried away.

Jenny laughed. “Oh, I bet some of them do.” She tilted her head a little at him.

Whatever Giles had been planning to say next got lost and he stuttered a little before he was able to recover.

“Well, I’d better buy some tomatoes and raspberries from you and then get home. Errands to do and all,” he was finally able to say.

She just grinned at him, setting the cat down so she could pack up the produce for him.

“Thank you, Ms. Calendar,” he said, when she handed him the paper sack.

“As always, Rupert, you can just call me Jenny. I’m not nearly proper enough for that Ms. Calendar business.”

“Right, well, have a good...market, Jenny.”

He looked down and then grinned as he walked away.

***

That night, Jenny Calendar was lounging on the sofa of her farmhouse, laptop propped open on her stomach as she read through the local news reports around Brightville. Things were always strange in this town, but they had definitely gotten stranger in the last few days - weeping statues, ominous crow formations, cats giving birth to snakes. It seemed to all be localized around the county. None of the national news was particularly strange - well, no stranger than it been for the past three years. Trump was president, after all, so nothing made sense. But this was different. This was foretelling something, or heralding something. She’d have to find out more tomorrow. The sun was setting now and she tried not to leave the farm after dark. 

She closed the laptop and went to put the goats and chickens away for the night. They were agitated, with the little kids bleating away and the old billie stomping and trying to headbutt the fence. One of the hens shrieked and ran out of the coop and Jenny had to snatch her up to get her back inside. She locked them all in for the night.

There was a chill in the air, unusual for August, but the winds were blowing down from the north. Jenny stood outside for awhile, feeling goosebumps rise up on her skin as she watched the sun fall behind the mountains. 

She went back inside and turned on netflix, needing something else to think about. 

Sweetheart had been outside, but he came back in through the cat door and jumped up onto the sofa next to her. Usually he was a pretty vocal cat, meowing and moaning at her to pet him, but he was quiet tonight. It took her a moment to realize it was because he had something in his mouth.

“What do have for me?” she asked, holding out her hand. He leaned forward and dropped the thing into her palm.

It was a finger - what looked to be a human finger - severed at the base and turning purple from decay.

“Huh,” she said.


End file.
